


Through the Water Brightly

by Shadowlover



Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny
Genre: Gen, Minor Canonical Character(s), Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowlover/pseuds/Shadowlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Many thanks to my beta readers: atreic, molybdomantic, republic, rmc28 and Senji - and to molybdomantic for hosting our group writing sessions!</p></blockquote>





	Through the Water Brightly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Serenade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/gifts).



I lie without the gate. It's quiet out here, and my maids would never think to venture beyond the walls in search of me. How improper that would be! Even if someone should, though, this spot of mine is within an outcrop of creamy coral that hides me altogether from any chance of being easily spied - which makes it perfect. 

I am more than fond of this place. I could rest my eyes on the arch yonder for hours, tracing the stories that the carvings tell. Today I decide that the Triton there in the lower corner is watching the nearby mermaid at play. He thinks she doesn't know, but the flirting of her tail is entirely a-purpose... 

The city walls are perfectly boring, of course; how else? But the stairs, mysterious and alluring, stretch up away from me, blushing nacre fading into murky green in the distance. Even after the stairs themselves blur too much to see I can follow the path by the smears of light where the torches glow. 

It's easy to imagine my hero coming down those stairs. To begin, there would be a shadow crossing the brighter patches; just a tiny hint of darkening. I'd watch, curious, as the shadow came closer, becoming slowly clearer as it came. At last as it passed a torch, it would be revealed to be a man. There would be further suspense to come, though, until he was finally close enough to be seen in detail. 

He would wear a cloak of brightest scarlet, putting even the most vividly coloured fish to shame. A golden circlet would be upon his brow and the hilt of his sword would glitter with rare jewels. His belt would be likewise studded, and jewels would flash on his sandals. 

He would approach me with a smile and a tender look. I would drop my head shyly, but dare to peek up at him through my lashes. He'd reach towards me eagerly but hesitate and pull back, and we'd share a speaking smile...

The gate is a golden rim against the arch. This early, there is hardly anyone moving beyond it, but the fish are swimming busily, and I smile to see their vivid bellies as they go about their business. I should not be here, though I often am. 

It's easy to imagine him coming down the stairs. His canary yellow belt is adorned with feathers and bells, and more bells are braided in his golden hair. They chime sweetly as he moves. He sees me, and starts, then almost dances towards me. I admire his grace and...

But the time! I must go and break my fast with Mother. I dare not be late and make her send someone looking for me; if I were found leaving my refuge for lack of a little care, not only would my joy in it be taken from me, but I would have to know as well that it was my own foolish fault. 

I find her at table but only just; it could have been far worse! I make my curtsy to her properly, and she acknowledges me with a wave. Her perfect hair reproaches my untidiness.

"Be seated, my tardy daughter," I hear with a wince I do not let show. "You are too old, I think, to be so cavalier."

"My apologies, Lady Mother," I reply swiftly. I feel entirely wrong-footed already, and I have scarce arrived. 

"It is time you began to grow up," she continues, though she waits, at least, until I have taken something to eat. 

"Yes, Lady Mother," I reply, for lack of anything better to say. 

"You should be thinking of the future," she tells me, and Oh! I know that lecture far too well.

It's easy to imagine him, coming down the stairs. He'd stride boldly, in stark black and tarnished silver. His forbidding appearance and stern countenance would belie a noble heart...

"...apply yourself." I hear, and jerk my wandering attention back to my mother. Too late, I fear; I have missed something I should not have. 

But, "Yes, Lady Mother," I say again, and for now it seems to suffice. 

We eat in silence for a time. It's easy to imagine him coming down. He'd come quietly and unremarked, no more noticed than a slightly colder current. 

He would pass softly by, stealing glances at me as he went, even as I stole my own at him. And just as he might feel himself safe to look, I'd catch his eye and simply smile. 

"...and so I've arranged it," I catch, and my heart stutters.

"Yes, Lady Mother," I manage through the cold ice in my stomach. I wait half in despair to hear more, but the silence stretches as I take bread, and mechanically butter it. 

And then my mother rises, so I too perforce must rise. I take a little comfort in my ability to walk calm-faced and graceful from the room. 

My maids are waiting in my room, scandalised by my early morning outing. They fuss with my hair, their tongues flashing in and out of the gossip and news like silversides in weed. 

It is easy to imagine him coming down, tall and strong and unfamiliar! A stranger, never seen before. Someone, something, different and delightfully new...

Easy to imagine. So easy. And yet... I am taught that this land reflects the land above. It must then be a boring land indeed, just as this is; if there were any excitement in it, it would be reflected here, would it not?

If he did come down the stairs... I suppose in reality he'd be staid and dull and boring. He'd wear greens and blues in the current fashion, just as they all do. And just as they all do, he would look at me and see only my mother's heir, and I would look at him and see nothing but another shuttered greedy face. 

Perhaps Mother is right. 

Perhaps it is time to grow up. 

But perhaps I might sometimes still imagine him coming down for me...

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta readers: atreic, molybdomantic, republic, rmc28 and Senji - and to molybdomantic for hosting our group writing sessions!


End file.
